The Last Elf-Child
by SilverElvenEyes
Summary: Sequel to To Love A Mortal. Aldaya must go after Tindome her child after he is captured before the rogue elves murder him. Finished at last! reviews welcome, a sequel is be written as we speak!
1. Chapter One: Expecting Arrivals

DISCLAIMER: All of this belongs to the wondrous and ingenious J.R.R. Tolkien except for Aldaya, Silruin and Ëarel

AUTHOR'S NOTE: PLEASE do NOT READ THIS if you haven't yet read, "To Love A Mortal" (my other story with these characters) because the first word of the first paragraph gives away SO MUCH in spoiler. So Please pretty Please go read To Love A Mortal before you read The Last Elf Child. Thank you! Elrond Muse and I really appreciate it!!  

The Last Elf-Child

Chapter One

Expecting Arrivals

Aldaya laid a gentle hand on her swollen belly and looked out over the stormy gray sea, watching the cool cloud of rain pass over them and leave things damp in its wake. Her hair, allowed to grow long, flapped and twirled in the breeze like a dragon in the air. Her features, so unusual for the Fair Folk, were nevertheless quite elven. Her dark chocolate eyes peered out from under auburn eyelashes, the same shade as her hair. Her features were not as pale as most elves, and she was not as tall—but still, she was an elf, immortal in the minds of men and dwarves.

"Is it very far?" she asked Glorfindel as he stepped up beside her. 

"No," he replied, and his lovely blue eyes were clearly alight with excitement. "No, we are very close."

Aldaya smiled a demure smile. "You look positively elfish, Glorfindel." When the elf-lord gave her an ironic look, she grinned, a most un-elvish expression. "Positively gleeful."

"I knew I should have waited for the next boat out," Glorfindel mourned, shaking his head. "I forgot I'd be traveling with a human."

Aldaya's grin widened. It was quite true that while she may have the same abilities and same body-type as an elf, her behavior was characteristically human, much to the shock (and in some cases, horror) of her elven companions. 

"Come now," she teased, switching to the more formal dialect the elves use, "surely, Lord Glorfindel, you can truthfully say to me that you have learned much on the subject of humans and their customs from me?"

"Too much," Glorfindel quipped, and she laughed. It was cold out on the prow of the ship, and she was beginner to shiver from the cool air. Noticing immediately, Glorfindel slipped off his heavy velvet coat and put it around her shoulders. She reached up with deceptively delicate fingers and fastened the clasp, smiling and nodding in thanks. "Ah, hantale," she said, remembering the Quenya word for thanks. Glorfindel just smiled, putting his hand over hers.

The two of them stood and watched the shower curtain of dew part, and Aldaya caught her breath at the beautiful site. Rolling green hills, blue sky, lakes, and streams clear as diamonds as far as the eye could see, and far, far in the distance on what seemed to be another island, a single peak piercing the sky. Glorfindel squeezed her hand once and then disappeared, springing lightly across the deck as he helped the other sailors prepare to dock. 

Aldaya turned as Elrohir moved up to her, affectionately stroking her face. Her smile widened and she looked back over to Eressea. "I do not think I will miss Middle-Earth over much after all," she said, and Elrohir smiled. "And Father will be here, soon."

Elrohir nodded, stepping closer and putting his arm around her shoulders. Silruin had chosen to stay in Middle-Earth for a short time longer, though he had promised he would be along on the next boat out. "There are a few things I need to take care of," he's said when asked. "I promised an old friend of mine that I'd meet him at the Gray Havens, and I don't want to break that promise."

Aldaya leaned against Elrohir, narrowing her eyes slightly as the spray from the ocean sea stung her face. "I cannot wait to meet your mother," she said. 

"You will like her," Elrohir promised, squeezing her gently. "I am much like her, or so I'm told."

"Then I will indeed like her," Aldaya said with a smile, and began humming softly under her breath. 

The sailors expertly put into the dock, and Aldaya scanned the crowd for Elrond and Celebrían, whom she'd heard so much about. She found them pushing they're way to the front; Celebrían was indeed very beautiful, and similar in face to Galadriel, who was walking behind the couple. She had very long silver hair—bright, shimmering silver, not gray. 

Elrohir's face lit up, and Aldaya gave him a gentle nudge, allowing him to run down the planks, effectively clearing the way to his parents for Aldaya, who was coming slower and escorted by Glorfindel. 

Elrohir was positively glowing as he introduced Aldaya to Celebrían. The two women -miled at each other, and Aldaya found herself struck that Celebrian's eyes were not the normal blue or twilight-gray that the eyes of elves usually were; they were silver, as silver as her hair, and as piercing as her husband's.

Aldaya wracked her memory for the phrase to greet a lord and a lady, and finally stuck to the traditional greeting. "Elen sila lumenn' omentielvo,* Lady Celebrían, Lord Elrond," she said, smiling. Aldaya decided she didn't want to risk a curtsy in her present state, and inclined her head instead. Celebrían smiled and bowed her head as well. Elrond embraced Aldaya, much to her surprise and delight. She had become quite fond of the elf-lord from her time in Rivendell. 

"Welcome to Tol Eressëa*!" Celebrían said with a smile. She hugged Elrohir tightly, and Elladan as well. Glorfindel and Elrond clasped forearms in greeting. Aldaya allowed her eyes to wander over the beautiful buildings set a little farther inland; the delicate, clearly elven style of architecture fascinated her. The style was somewhat different from what she knew in Rivendell, being much older and less influenced by other species, but she could see the resemblance nevertheless. The arches decorated with vines, the perfectly level floors and straight halls—few races besides the dwarves could match such delicate perfection. 

"Well," Aldaya said as Elrohir came up to her, smiling broadly, "who's up for dinner?" Oh, hell, she thought. I did it again. What kind of elf says 'who's up for'? Argh!

But to her surprise, the elves were obviously charmed by her blunt, very human personality. Elrohir had once told it was one of the things he loved most about her. 

"You don't circle a question," he'd once said. "You don't give half-truths, or twist words to your own use. You're one of the most candid and honest people I've ever met."

"Dinner sounds wonderful," said Elrond.

*     *     *     *

With her baby due in the next week or so, Aldaya was not at all unhappy about sharing a house with Elrond and Celebrían until Elrohir could work out where they would live. She spent most of her time reading, talking to Celebrían, or taking short walks down to the dock and talking to the sailors. To everyone's surprise, she had become quite fascinated with sailing and was bugging all of the sailors on the tips and tricks of sailing, and one sailor in particular, Ëarel*, had become good friends with Aldaya. "I'm thinking of taking up sailing as a hobby, when the baby is born," Aldaya said to Elrohir one night over dinner. 

Elrohir swallowed and paused, the beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips as he lifted the fork to his mouth. "It sounds like a wonderful hobby," he said, chewing thoughtfully. 

It was exactly a week after she arrived at Eressëa that Aldaya awoke one night from the light dream-resting that elves call sleep to find that she was having cramps, and her back hurt. Since she had not had a period in a year, it could only signify one thing.

"Elrohir!" she shouted, and since she was lying right by him she accidentally said it into one of his extremely sensitive and leaf-shaped ears. 

"Noro-ed, gódhellim o sîr-imlad!*" Elrohir cried, falling out of bed. He stuck his head back up, and said calmly, "Yes, glî*?"

"It's happening," Aldaya said, breathing the way Celebrían had shown her and trying to stay calm as sweat broke out on her face. She whimpered.

"It is? It has? You are?" Elrohir gasped, hauling himself up.

"Get a healer," Aldaya answered, her face white. 

"I'll get Father—no! Can't have Father!"

"Why not? He's the best healer in all of Middle-Earth—"

"He's my _Father," Elrohir retorted, as if that explained everything. "I'll get Galadriel—wait—she's on the other side of the Isle."_

"Get your mother!"

"She's not here, either!" Elrohir cried, tugging on his hair in distress.

The cramp passed and Aldaya breathed easier. "I'll get father and send for mother," Elrohir decided, and disappeared before she could respond.

Aldaya managed a weak chuckle, and pushed herself up to lean against the pillows. 

*     *     *     *

Elrohir paced nervously outside of the door, his brother watching him move back and forth. "Really, Elrohir, relax. You're wearing holes in the floor."

"Relax? Relax! In a dangerous situation like this? You want me to relax? When my lend-ind* is in pain? How could you be so insensitive?" Elrohir swung around and glared at his twin brother, who in response sent calming thoughts through their rapport. Elrohir growled loudly and spun around, stomping up and down the hallway and grumbling. 

After about a half an hour, Elrond came out, drying his hands off on a towel and smiling reassuringly to his son, who nearly bowled him over in an effort to get information. "How is she? Is she going to be alright? How's the baby? Can I see her?"

"Relax, Elrohir—she's fine. I—" 

"What did you do, then, for all that time?" he demanded.

Elrond raised an eyebrow at his son's venom, tempering Elrohir's anger. "I had to examine her, to make sure the baby wasn't twisted awkwardly. You can go see her, but, Elrohir—" Elrond caught Elrohir's arm to make him pause. "Don't upset her, Elrohir. Birth is a natural process, more so in elves than humans. She's fine and in perfect health, and the baby is fine as well. She's nervous enough as it is. Breathe." Elrohir disappeared into the room without responding. 

Elrond shook his head and came to sit next to Elladan out in the hall on the bench, pushing back his long dark hair from his eyes. "So how long before…" Elladan began, letting his voice fade off.

"Before the baby is born? Probably fifteen to sixteen hours, maybe less." As Elladan's jaw dropped, Elrond smiled. "So by mid-morning the baby should be securely on the way."

"But that's a long time!"

"Of course it is. Celebrían was in labor for sixteen and a half hours with you two. Think how I felt. I never said this would be easy, either on Aldaya or Elrohir. If it was, it wouldn't be called labor."

*?*?*?*?*?*

* Elen sila lumenn' omentielvo=A star shines upon the hour of our meeting. Quenya

* Tol Eressëa=The Isle (or island) of Eressëa (pronounced Er-es-EE-a, with the "a" as in d"a"y)

* Ëarel=Sea-star. Pronounced "AIR-il." Quenya

* Noro-ed, gódhellim o sîr-imlad=Ride forth, elves of Rivendell (literally, river-valley). Sindarin

* glî=honey. Sindarin

* lend-ind=sweetheart. Sindarin

AUTHOR'S NOTE: If you're wondering why just lately I've been using those strange little dots and dashes over words such as Ě, Ĩ, etc, it's because I just figured out how to use them (like on Celebrían's name, and so forth). =)


	2. Chapter Two: The Elf-Child

DISCLAIMER: I only own Ëarel, Silruin, and Aldaya. And, of course, the elf-baby. : )

Chapter Two

The Elf-Child

Aldaya leaned back against the pillows, panting heavily. "Stay calm," Elrond said gently from his perch next to her on a chair, taking her hand and smiling at her, then glancing at the movement of the sky. Her cramps were coming closer now, only three minutes apart. Elrond abruptly stood up, excused himself to see how Elrohir was faring, and quickly closed the door behind him. 

"Elladan," he said in a brisk tone. "Where is your brother?" 

"He went to get something to eat—why?"

"I want you to go boil some water, get some brandy and a clean dagger, and the kit that Celebrían made out and left in our room." When Elladan stood puzzled a moment longer, Elrond scowled. "Now!" Elladan ran. 

Elrohir passed him in the hall, paused, confused, and then saw Elrond beckoning to him and hurried up. "Aldaya?" Elrohir asked, and Elrond nodded. Elrohir stepped past him and into the room just as Aldaya had another cramp. She yelped with pain, and went very pale. Elrohir took some of the pain onto him through their rapport, and winced at how sharp it was. He took Aldaya's hand and Elrond's chair, speaking soothingly. A moment later, he heard quick footsteps and his mother, Celebrían, appeared, and followed by an extremely nervous Elladan.

"Relax," Elrohir said to his brother. "Everything's fine." Elladan made a face in response. Aldaya managed to laugh weakly, but her cramps intensified and she cried out. 

"Hold on, honey," said Celebrían, her beautiful face sympathetic as Elrond shooed Elladan out of the room. "The worst is yet to come, but it's almost over." 

*     *     *     *

Aldaya leaned back against her pillows, her hair so soaked with sweat as to appear black instead of reddish-brown. Her face was pale, but her eyes and smile lit up as Elrond gave the squirming, crying bundle that was her baby to Elrohir to hold. Elrohir came close to Aldaya and eased the child into her arms. "It's a boy," Elrond said over Elrohir's shoulder, and then both he and Celebrían left to give him and Aldaya some privacy.

"Well?" Elladan demanded as Celebrían and Elrond left the room to come into the hallway, where, among others, Elwing, Celeborn, Galadriel, Elladan, Glorfindel and Ëarel were waiting with some impatience for the news.

"It's a boy," Elrond said with a smile, and he and Celebrían retired to their rooms for some much deserved rest. 

*     *     *     *

"What to name him?" Aldaya whispered, looking into the beautiful gray eyes of her newborn son. The baby yawned and waved his little fists around gently, then began to cry. "Oh, shhh," Aldaya soothed, rocking him gently. The child calmed, and looked up at Aldaya and Elrohir. 

"Tindómë,*" Elrohir said suddenly. "His name shall be Tindómë."

"Ëarfëa*," Aldaya whispered, but Elrohir did not hear. "His mother name shall be Ëarfëa."

*?*?*?*?*?*?*

*Starry Twilight

*Sea-spirit

AUTHOR'S NOTE: In the elven culture, the father's named the children as their "first" name, and sometimes the mothers would give a mother-name, names of insight or foresight.


	3. Chapter Three: Hidden Prejudices

Disclaimer: I only own Ëarel, Silruin, Aldaya, and Tindómë Ëarfëa

Chapter Three

Hidden Prejudices

Aldaya walked down to the docks, Tindómë balanced on her hip, cooing happily in her ear. Her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, allowed to fall down her back and twist in the wind. As Ëarel looked up from his work on the docks, his face burst into smile at the giggling youngster. Long it had been indeed since he had seen the happy, smiling face of a child.

The nimble elf left his boat to greet her and tickle the elf-child, who squealed happily, his eyes alight and his small fists pumping the air. "Coo," said the elf-child, and Aldaya laughed. 

"May I hold him?" Ëarel asked, pleasantly surprised by the youngster's affection. 

"Of course." Aldaya eased Tindómë into Ëarel's arms. The child sighed and happily poked at Ëarel's face with a tiny finger, giggling all the while.

"What a happy child!" Ëarel laughed as he gave Tindómë back to Aldaya. The child cooed again, and then suddenly pointed at Ëarel and said quite clearly, "Arel." This is, of course, the proper pronunciation of Ëarel's name. Aldaya was positively stunned. A human child could generally get their point across by a year old, but they rarely started talking before two or two and a half!

Ëarel, however, didn't seem overly surprised. He just smiled, and gave the baby a finger to squeeze. "What a grip!" he exclaimed, and then noticed Aldaya's amazed expression. "Did you not have many elf-children where you grew up?" he asked, curious. "It is usual for an elf-child to be speaking by the end of his or her first week."

Aldaya opened her mouth to respond without really knowing what to say. How could she explain to this elf, this elf that was obviously much, much older than she, that she had once been human? That she had been as mortal as the creatures the elves on Valinor and Eressea seemed to scorn?

She heard a voice fall to her, and looked over to see Celebrían wave to her, Elrond standing by her side. "I'm afraid I must go," she said to Ëarel. "Can I come here tomorrow?"

He smiled at her. "You are always welcome, meldis*."

She smiled at him in return, and then set off back up the docks, nodding to the sailors she knew as she made her way towards Elrond and Celebrían. Tindómë gurgled happily, and began to fall asleep on her shoulder. Elrond greeted her with a nod and a smile, and Celebrían gently took Tindómë from her arms, as it was clear Aldaya was tiring.

"How are you enjoying your stay in Valinor?" Celebrían asked, stroking the elf-child to calm him as he fell asleep in her arms. 

For a long moment she didn't answer, and Elrond and Celebrían exchanged concerned looks. At last Aldaya spoke. "Lady Celebrían, did Lord Elrond tell you what I once was?"

"That you were human? Yes, he did. Why?"

"Do you think…that if the other elves here knew what I…that I was human. Do you think they would…hold it against me? For not coming from elven parents?"

Both Elrond and Celebrían stopped to look at her closely. Aldaya seemed suddenly very uncertain and very pale. Elrond nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "I'm sure many of them would," Elrond said at last. "But not, I think, the ones who had lived in Middle-Earth, or had contact with humans. It is not the thought of a human that worries them, Aldaya, but the thought of a human knowing their secrets—an elf that is not a true elf, who could betray them. And an elf they felt they could not trust." Seeing the moisture in her eyes, Elrond quickly continued. "But you must understand, Aldaya, a goodly amount of the elves who live here have never had any outside contact from the humans—much of what they hear about your race is from hearsay. Those who call you their friend will not abandon you, for elves do not make friendships lightly. Those who respect you will not hate you. Only the younger, perhaps less…tolerant of the elves may prove bothersome."

Aldaya stared off into the distance for a long moment before saying, "Do you think they might…try and…"

"Harm your child?" Celebrían interrupted, and quickly shook her head. "Whatever their feelings for you, they will not lay a finger on the child. The wrath of all the elf-lords of our linage would come down upon them, from Finwe and Gil-Galad to Elwing, Galadriel and myself." Celebrían's eyes were very steady as she held Aldaya's gaze. "Upon my life I swear that while I still draw breath that child shall remain unharmed."

"And I also," Elrond said quietly. Aldaya looked between them, feeling safer and more secure suddenly. "Thank you," she said, very softly. Elrond and Celebrían smiled at her in return. 

"But come," Celebrían said suddenly, light-heartedly. "We have not given you a proper tour of the island! Do you feel up to it?"

"Very," Aldaya answered with a very impish grin. "Perhaps I will find that disappearing husband of mine. He's been gone all morning."

"Off gathering flowers, I suspect," Elrond commented, offering Aldaya his arm, which she shyly took as Celebrían continued to hold the dozing elf-child. "Was I ever like that, my Lady, when we were younger?"

"Nonsense, darling, you were worse," Celebrían chuckled. "Up all night and day trying to make me comfortable. And you haven't done it since," she teased. 

Elrond arched an eyebrow dramatically. "I've been doing it everyday since we married, dear."

Celebrían laughed. "Quite true," she admitted with a fond smile. "Quite true."

*     *     *     *

Later that afternoon, Elrohir was tending their child and everyone seemed to be either sleeping or reading, so Aldaya, feeling restless, wandered down to the dock to see Ëarel. He grinned and waved her, and she returned the wave with a smile of her own. She plopped down at the end of the dock, allowing her feet to dangle in the pleasantly cool waters, chatting to Ëarel about nothing in particular and everything that came to mind. But something gnawed at Aldaya's concentration and tugged at her laugher, straining the conversation. At one point where Aldaya had stopped talking to listen to the water and the seagulls, Ëarel spoke. 

"Is there anything you'd like to tell me, meldis*?"

"I'm afraid to," she answered truthfully. Ëarel frowned and left his lines to come sit by her.   
  


"Why?" he asked.

"I'm afraid of what you might think of me."

Ëarel was sincerely puzzled. He liked Aldaya, liked her charm and wit, and her openness with people. The fact that she was so disturbed about this little secret worried him. "I will not judge you," he promised. 

She was silent. "On your honor?" she said at last, and he nodded. "Very well then. I'm not an elf."

Of all the things that could have stunned him, this was probably at the top. "What?" he gasped. "Then why were you allowed here in the first place—"

"For the first twenty-five years of my life, I was human," Aldaya plunged on doggedly. "Then I met Elrohir—we fell in love. Turns out we're soul-bonded. I was struck by an arrow and killed, much as Beren was all those years ago. And like Luthien, Elrohir followed me to Mandos' Halls, to plead my case. I can't exactly explain how, but we were allowed to return, and I was transformed into an elf so that Elrohir and I could marry without him becoming mortal. I'm not sure why the Valar made a—a different decision with me than with Beren and Luthien. I only know they did. So. There you have it. I'm almost the most blue-blooded human you can find these days, from a long family of merchants, and here I am, sitting on Eressëa off the coast of Valinor, and elf in body and soul if not in temperament."

Ëarel didn't speak for a long moment. Then he silently stood up and went back to his boat. Aldaya leaned far out over the water, allowing her tears to slide from her cheeks into the water. 

After a moment though, she felt a gently hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Ëarel smiling at her. "Someday I'd like to hear the full story," was all he said, and she smiled. 

*     *     *     *

"Humans are a mystery to me," Elrond said quietly to Celebrían. "Sometimes I look at Aldaya and think that she could have been born an elf—and other times I look at her and wonder how Elrohir could love a creature so different from our own temperaments."

Celebrían came to stand beside him at the windowsill, where the two of them could see Elrohir and Aldaya laughing together, playing with their child and enjoying the warm sun.

"Is she really so different?" Celebrían asked in return. "Look at her, Elrond, and tell me that her soul is so different from ours. Look at her and tell me, is she so bad a creature?"

"Not bad," Elrond answered, "but a paradox. I know she'd willingly step in front of a flying arrow to save Elrohir—but just as willingly she'd kill someone she thought was a threat to her family in cold blood. Humans are such a strange mixture of good and evil its no wonder their society is chaotic."

"If a human had killed me, darling, would you have killed them?"

Elrond looked startled. "Yes, I would. Why?"

"If that human was Aldaya, would you kill her?"

"She's no longer a human."

"But if she was, would you kill her? Before she and Elrohir became soul-bonded."

"Yes, I would."

"And if she was wounded, and unable to fight you, would you kill her?"

Elrond seemed to see where this was going. "I see your point," he sighed. "But you know what I mean, about the humans."

"I know," Celebrían answered simply. "But she's no longer human."

"In many ways she is," Elrond countered. "She is…she does not act like an elf. She has not the temperament of one. I fear for her, Celebrían. For all that we reassured her, I fear for her, should she be found out."

Celebrían put a hand on his shoulder, and he put his arm around her as she leaned against him. "Do not just fear for her," Celebrían answered. "Fear also for the child."

*     *     *     *

Aldaya sang gently to Tindómë, rocking him in her arms as she moved. Elrohir perched on the windowsill, singing with her, and the light in his eyes was not entirely due to the candles in the room. 

_Child of my eyes, child of my heart_

_Forever together, never a part_

_Call to my soul, call to my heart_

_Forever together, never a part_

_What have you given to me?_

_What is it you shall grow up to be?_

_And when I am old, will you come back to me?_

_Who is this who calls to my heart?_

_Forever together, never apart_

_Song to hear song to cry_

_Song for thee and song for thy_

_What shall be shall be_

Elrohir came to stand beside Aldaya and the two of them smiled at the sleeping baby as they finished the song with a soft, "What shall be shall be.*"

Tindómë was quietly sucking on his thumb, his eyes closed, the soft tips of his leaf-shaped ears slightly bent over. Aldaya's eyes shone as she looked down on the little elf-child.

Gently the two elves put their child to bed, and perched on their own, watching the baby carriage. Aldaya leaned against Elrohir, and he put his arm around her. She closed her eyes and sighed. "Whatever shall be, shall be," she murmured. 

*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*

*Meldis=female friend. 

*Do listen to Enya's "Exile" while reading this song. I was listening to it when I wrote it.


	4. Chapter Four: Tindome

DISCLAIMER: Only cute little Tindómë, Ëarel, the 500 year old thugs, and Aldaya are mine. :-)

_Three years later…_

Chapter Four

Tindómë

Aldaya laughed and clapped her hands as she watched Tindómë dance with Celebrían, learning one of the traditional dances of the elves. He sang, too, as he danced, his clear and melodic tones ringing out. He was still able to sing soprano—and though Aldaya knew that would one day change, she was happy just to listen to his joyful calls and giggles. 

Ëarel was right, she thought. Tindómë is such a happy child!

Tindómë laughed again, spinning gaily, dodging and ducking with Celebrían, who seemed equally delighted. 

"Tindómë!" she called. "Time for dinner!"

Tindómë stopped and made a face. "But mother!" he protested. "I'm not in the least bit hungry!" His stomach rumbled loudly in response, and both Celebrían and Aldaya laughed. "Come, my grandchild," said Celebrían lightly. "It is time for lunch! We can come back later."

Tindómë sighed, but took his mother's hand, pulling her into a fast trot to keep up with him. So much energy, Aldaya thought with a grin. 

"Lady Aldaya!" Aldaya stopped suddenly, and though Tindómë protested she turned to see about half a dozen younger elves walk up to her, certain cockiness in their faces and stride. "Lady Aldaya," said the leader, an elf with the rare golden hair of the Vanyar elves, tall and overly-proud, "we ask you to join us in the Dance of Swirling Stars."

Aldaya stiffened slightly. The Dance of Swirling Stars, as it was called, was a complicated dance most elves didn't learn until they came into maturity somewhere around fifty years of age. But Aldaya had not had the time yet to learn it. Now she wished she had.

"I am afraid I cannot," Aldaya answered, grasping at straws. "My son needs to eat," she explained, trying to look sincere. Celebrían came up behind her, a silent, firm presence. 

"Another time, perhaps," the young elf said, but Aldaya did not like the maliciousness in his eyes, nor the coldness of his tone.

"Perhaps," she agreed, and then she and Celebrían left, tugging a happily oblivious Tindómë along behind her.

"They know," Aldaya said grimly to Celebrían as Tindómë was eating his lunch. "They know I'm human, or were human."

"You can't be sure of that," Celebrían pointed out, sipping at a glass of wine. 

"I can be sure," Aldaya answered, looking out over the rolling landscape of Eressea, and a little further in the distance, the island of Valinor. "Such a beautiful place," she said with a sigh, "such unrest."

Celebrían put a hand on her shoulder. Aldaya stared at the slowly setting sun, Tindome's happy squeals as Elrohir tickled him echoed in her mind. "Why aren't I happy?" she asked the older elf-woman. "I've lived hear for four years, and yet I still don't think of it as home."

"Part of it is your father hasn't been able to make it here yet," Celebrían said gently. "Part of it is you're still in love with Middle-Earth. Part of it is you miss your old life. Part of it is you hate yourself for missing your old life. Part of it is you still consider yourself human." 

Aldaya turned around and looked into Celebrían's silver eyes and smiled slightly. "And yet I have a family here," she said quietly. "You've all been so kind to me. Through all my blundering mistakes, my misconceptions and mythologies, through my initial distrust of what we humans call magic, you've all been so patient and understanding."

Celebrían returned the smile. "You're family," she explained, "family and friends—that's what we're here for. And no matter what a bunch of five hundred year old thugs say, we'll always be here for you."

Aldaya smiled through the sudden moisture rimming her eyes. "Thank you," Aldaya said. "I needed to hear that, girl to girl."

Celebrían brushed the tear from her face. "Elves don't abandon each other," she said gently.

Tindómë burst into the room, laughing shrilly, and Aldaya's melancholy melted away as she caught her son in her arms and swung him around, listening to his peels of laughter, and laughing with him. 

There was only one thing that could banish her happiness—and that was the coldness in the young elf's eyes, coldness directed at her, and at Tindómë.

I'll kill them, she decided, tickling Tindómë's feet. If they harm my baby, or Elrohir, I'll kill every one of the bastards. 

*     *     *     *

Tindómë was content.

He had a loving mother and father, interesting grandparents, and even great-grandparents! A warm bed in the same room as his parents', a place to play, a forest to romp in, and his mother loved playing his favorite game of hide-and-go-seek. 

But even with all that, he sensed a general sadness about his mother. Whenever he asked her about it, she just smiled and tickled him, assuring him that she was fine. 

Tindómë was not convinced.

With the natural ease and grace of his kind, Tindómë sprang up and grabbed hold of a branch several feet above his head and swung himself up. Balancing fearlessly, he walked to the end of the branch, and looked down to see his father gasping in alarm.

"Tindómë! Get down from there! You could fall!"

"I'll be alright," Tindómë insisted, even though he knew his father was probably right. Elrohir stood up and beckoned with his hand. Tindómë hesitated, and then let out a playful yell as he sprang down into his father's arms. Elrohir laughed and swung him around. "It's a bird! No, a falcon! No—it can't be! An eagle—wait! No! It's—_Tindómë!" Elrohir flipped his child expertly in his arms as Tindómë howled with laughter, holding his son up by the ankles and tickling his toes. Tindómë squealed and laughed, twisting as he tried to break free. _

Elrohir gently lowered Tindómë to the ground, making sure the elfling had twisted safely and was mostly on the ground before he let go of Tindómë's feet. 

"Father?"

Elrohir looked down at the suddenly grave little face, Tindómë's wide gray eyes staring back at him. "Yes, childling?"

"What's a girl?"

Elrohir tried hard not to laugh. 

*     *     *     *

Elladan positively floated back to his father's home, spinning and sighing dramatically. Elrond knew something was wrong before Elladan had even stepped in the house. With the weird little dance Elrohir was doing it was a wonder all of Eressea hadn't come to watch him…

"Elladan?" Elrond called as his son came in the door, still doing that odd little flutter-flutter, kick-kick, spin-duck, flutter-flutter, kick-kick, spin-duck dance.

"Oh, father dearest!" Elladan cried with excitement. Elrond was taken back. Elladan had _never in quite literally over three thousand years called him that. "The most wonderful thing has happened!"_

Elrond closed his eyes. _Oh, Elbereth, no. He's in love._

"I'm in love," Elladan said with a sigh.

_Am I allowed to swear in my mind, I wonder? If so, shit. Elbereth help me…_

"And how does the object of your affection feel towards you?" Elrond asked warily.

"She hates me," Elladan replied happily.

_Oh, no, please no. Not the house of Finarfin, not the house of Finarfin…_

"And she's of the house of Finarfin."

_I just can't win today. _

"And she's the beautiful creature I've ever seen. I'm going to ask her to marry me."

_Help me, Elbereth…_

"And she hates you? Why?"

"I'm not sure. She did throw a chamber pot at me. So I went for a swim to wash off and she dumped my clean clothes—along with the dirty ones—into the sea."

Elrond decided he didn't want to know the answer to the next question, but he had to ask. "If that is so, why are you fully clothed?"

"Well, I swam after my clothes, put them on and then dried out in the sun." Elladan threw himself dramatically on the couch and draped an arm over his eyes. "I think we're soul-bonded."

Elrond briefly closed his eyes and wondered, not for the first, and not for the last time, why his life had to be so complicated. 


	5. Chapter Five: Women of the Fair Folk

Chapter Five

Women of the Fair-Folk

"I have a proposition for you," Celebrían stated at breakfast the next morning. Aldaya paused with a piece of toast half-way to her mouth, put it down, and began buttering it all over again.

"What's that?" she asked, now satisfied with the amount of butter and taking a bite.

"Have you ever heard of an elf-woman by the name of Ellórmë?" 

Aldaya choked, swallowed hastily and dropped her toast back to her plate. "Heard of her?" she gasped. "Who hasn't? The elf-woman who befriended the dwarves, who stormed Dol Guldur to rescue her father, who—"

Celebrían chuckled. "Well, she and I set up a defense program for those of us elf-women who would rather be working than fussing over the latest hairstyles and talking to our husbands. Would you like to join?"

"Well—yes! Of course—but wait, what about Tindómë?"

"Well, Elrohir and Elrond have nothing planned for today. Why don't you ask them to take the child?"

Aldaya grinned widely, looking suddenly very mischievous. "Celebrían, I admire your intellect."

"Why, thank you, darling." 

They laughed and clicked glasses. "To all elven folk!" Aldaya said. "May your ears stay ever pointy!"

Celebrían laughed. "To all elf-women," she corrected. "May your dresses never hinder your sword thrust."

It was some time before Aldaya could stop laughing and take a sip of her drink. 

*     *     *     *

"Step right, _thrust, Aldaya—if I get hit, I deserve it. Don't poke me, __hit me dwarf-dammit!"_

Ellórmë was soothing, being the first elf-woman Aldaya had ever heard swear, or act like a human. "Times with dwarves and humans will do that to you," Ellórmë had explained when asked.  

So Aldaya struck, missed wildly and fell face down. She came up with a mouthful of leaves and grass. 

"Any sword training in the past?" Ellórmë asked innocently.

"Very funny," Aldaya muttered. "I bet I could whip your elven butt at archery."

Ellórmë grinned widely and mercilessly. "I bet you could. However, we're not learning archery, are we?"

"Har, har," Aldaya answered dryly. 

Despite Aldaya's grumbling, Ellórmë was a good teacher, and quickly Aldaya settled into her new routine of working out with the other elven-women, of which there were about ten or fifteen, and practicing at home. 

Elrohir began noticing that Aldaya, rather than just naturally slender, was beginning to look more muscular, and was much stronger. Celebrían noticed the difference, too, and secretly she hoped Aldaya's fitness would prevent any fights between her and some of the younger, more volatile elves. 

After morning practice, Aldaya trotted down the grassy bank to Ëarel's boat, and ran across the dock. "Any news about my father?" she asked, but the words died on her lips as Ëarel turned. There was sympathy, and kindness in those stormy gray eyes. Aldaya stopped suddenly. "What's happened?" she asked softly.

"Your father's boat was caught off the coast of the Gray Havens in a very powerful storm…the ship was wrecked. Only one elf survived."

"And my father?"

Ëarel paused, and that was all that Aldaya needed. She stood very still for a long while, looking out over Ëarel's shoulder to the sea. 

"I'm so sorry," Ëarel said, just as Aldaya broke down, falling to her knees and sobbing hysterically. Ëarel tried to put a hand on her shoulder, to calm her, but Aldaya would have none of it. 

"No! No! No!" she cried shrilly. "You're lying—you bastard!" She roughly shoved Ëarel away and fled blindly back up the dock. She stumbled often, unable to see through her tears. 

Somehow she made it back to the house Elrohir had built for her and Tindómë. She could hear Tindómë laughing inside as Elrohir told him a story to pass the time. Aldaya shut her eyes against the sound and ran on, down the twisting path seldom used anymore. Across the grassy meadow and into the cool forest she raced, her long hair pulled back by the breeze, her tears dried by the cold air. 

Aldaya stumbled to a stop somewhere in the middle of Eressëa, and sat down, crying hard. 

Had she not been so distraught, she would have heard movement behind her, sensed the presence moving towards her. But she did not notice, and so when a hand was laid on her shoulder she yelped, sending herself into hiccups as she swung around. Elrond stood before her, a sad expression on his handsome face. "Aldaya?" he said, several questions put into one word.

Aldaya considered running away. She considered taking her family and sailing back to Middle-Earth—if that was even possible. She even considered sailing out with Ëarel, hoping to find her father.

Ëarel. She sunk to her knees again, remembering her words to her friend. She began crying again, helplessly but not hysterically. Elrond set down the basket of herbs he'd been collecting and knelt by her, putting his hand on hers. He didn't need to ask what the matter was—he had already spoken with Ëarel. Aldaya leaned against Elrond's shoulder, still crying, and he drew her into a hug, and he wiped her eyes with a handkerchief. She took it and blew her nose, her eyes red and swollen. Elrond stroked her hair, letting her cry. He knew there were no words to say that would comfort her—after all, he had lost his parents at a young age, and not long after had lost his brother to mortality. He had lost his only daughter, had even lost Celebrían for a little while. He knew how Aldaya felt. 

After a little while, Aldaya drew back, still clenching the handkerchief like it was a handhold to life itself.

_Perhaps it is, Elrond thought sadly, watching Aldaya rock back and forth, whimpering quietly, her eyes completely glazed over. _

"Poor child," he said quietly when she was quiet again, wearily leaning against his strong shoulder. "Poor child," he repeated. "Let's get you home."

Aldaya didn't resist as Elrond gently helped her up, scooped up his bucket of herbs and steered her back towards his and Celebrían's house. 

*     *     *     *

"Mother!" Elladan cried, flinging himself into the room with such single-minded abandon that he tripped on a stool and went flying.

Used to such antics by her son, Celebrían was not surprised when Elladan—almost literally—bounced to his feet and spun around. "Mother!" he cried again.

"Yes, dear?" Celebrían answered calmly. 

"You'll never guess what has happened!  
  


_Oh, dear Elbereth, no. He's in love._

"I'm in love," Elladan declared. 

_Oh shit. "And how does the woman you love feel?" Celebrían asked warily._

"She hates me," Elladan replied happily.

_Oh, no, please no. Not the house of Finarfin, not the house of Finarfin…_

"She's of the house of Finarfin."

_This has been a bad day from the start, and it's getting worse. First Aldaya, now this. . ._

"And she's the beautiful creature I've ever seen. I'm going to ask her to marry me."

_Help me, Elbereth…_

"She hates you? Why?"

"Apparently she doesn't appreciate soul-bonding," Elladan answered. 

"Elladan—is that a black eye?"

"Actually, yes, it is."

"How in the world did you get it?"

"She decked me."

_"What?!"_

"She creamed me."

Celebrían drew back suspiciously. "What did you do?" she demanded. 

"I serenaded outside her widow," Elladan replied, a bit touchy. "Out of range of her chamber pot, of course."

"And she came down and just hit you?"

"Well, she ordered me out of there, and I asked her to marry me, so she punched me." 

_Why? Why couldn't both of them have been born sensible? Why, I ask you, why?!_


	6. Chapter Six: Lessons on Pain

Chapter Six

Lessons on Pain

Elrond pressed a hot cup of tea into Aldaya's hands as Celebrían tried to get her to stop crying. Aldaya had been positively hysterical when she got back to his and Celebrían's house. Elrond had already sent for Elrohir, but Elrohir's house was several minutes walk from Elrond's, and he knew it could be a half an hour before Elrohir got there.

The tea had a very mild tranquilizer in it, the dosage so small Elrond wondered if it would even work on Aldaya in her state. After drinking the tea, though, she became sleepy, and stopped crying. Celebrían helped her lie down on the couch, and covered her warmly, sitting by her side and stroking her hair. "Poor baby," Celebrían said over and over again. 

Elrohir appeared a moment later, a sleepy Tindómë trotting along behind him, hand in hand with his father. Elrond coaxed Tindómë out of the room, and Celebrían discreetly disappeared. Elrohir smoothed back Aldaya's hair. Aldaya opened her eyes, wearily, the drug taking full effect. She managed to push herself up onto her elbows. "Elrohir?" she mumbled. 

Elrohir sat down on the cough and drew her into his arms, kissing her forehead gently as she leaned against him. "Elrohir," she sighed, too tired to mourn further. 

"Shh," Elrohir soothed, caressing her as she drifted off to sleep. "Shh. Hush now, rest. You're exhausted."

"Daddy," she mumbled, and then she was asleep. 

*     *     *     *

"I just don't understand her anymore," Elrohir said to his father later that day. Tindómë was playing with Celebrían in the room over. "She was always so perky and happy. But she's seemed so tense and unhappy lately. I don't know why. Is it something I'm doing? Is it just her? Is it both of us?"

"Elrohir, you must understand," Elrond said with a shake of his head, "along with becoming elven, Aldaya began remembering her past life—she remembers her father dying in front of her, no doubt, and her betrayal by her mother. She remembers her struggles to get away—and undoubtedly her own death." Elrond leaned back and watched his son closely. "The shock of remembering her death is no doubt near-traumatic. Humans view death as the end of everything, and she still holds that view. The thought of rebirth is frightening to her, to say the least. And she feels terribly out pf place. Being and acting elven is not just a way of moving or acting, of physical beauty or warrior prowess—it's a way of life, and a philosophy. A way of looking at things and a way of looking at yourself that Aldaya has not yet adopted. Because of that, some elves see her as an imposter, as a threat—as a human."

"What am I to do, then?"

"Only time—time and knowledge—can heal her wounds. Be patient."

"Do you think that Tindómë…that he…"

"Made Aldaya's recovery—first from her memory, and now this—more difficult? Quite the contrary. He may be the key to helping her climb her way out of the abyss into which she has stumbled. Actually, I'm surprised you managed to have a child at all."

Elrohir sat upright, anger reflecting on his face. "What do you mean?" he demanded.

"I mean that, or so the prophecies said, you sister was to be the last elven-child born. The fact that this is disproved is…disturbing."

"Disturbing? How?"

"Your son could have an unusual life ahead of him, Elrohir. And if I'm not quite mistaken, Aldaya could, as well."  
*     *     *     *

_"Sing to me, papa," a younger and more innocent Aldaya pleaded to her father, her arms rapped around his neck. Silruin leaned back against the chair he had built with his own hands and looked down with an affectionate smile at his pride and joy, his little daughter. "All right," he relented as she gave him her more imploring look. "But then you must rest, agreed?"_

_"Yes, papa." She snuggled against him, burying her face in his shoulder._

_Silruin began to sing in a quiet, melodic tenor, his voice weaving dreams of butterflies and wildflowers, rocking Aldaya. The child put her thumb in her mouth and fell asleep on her father's shoulder. Silruin continued to rock her, not wanting the precious moment to end. _

Aldaya thrashed under the covers, knowing the memory that came next, and not wanting to relive it yet again.

_A thunderous knock startled both father and daughter. Aldaya sat up, confused and afraid. "Papa?" she said as Silruin slid her into the chair and stood up. "Who is that?" _

_"I don't know," Silruin answered with a slight frown. He listened at the door for a moment, but could only hear the sound of quick breathing. A human, then._

_Silruin opened the door, expecting it to be one of the farmers he lived near, asking for help with a small fire or some such thing. _

_Instead it was an enraged Beren, his sword in his hand. "Tramp!" he roared as he plunged the sword deep into Silruin's chest. Silruin gasped, tried to speak, but blood came out of his mouth, and out of the gaping hold in his chest and back as Beren brutally wrenched the sword from the elf's body. Silruin collapsed into a bloodied heap._

_"Papa!" Aldaya screamed. She looked into the terrible eyes of Beren and backed away._

_"Don't hurt her!" came a sharp voice from behind, and Luthien seized hold of Beren's arm. Beren snarled and yanked free, but by the Aldaya had scrambled out of the window and out behind the house. _

_Long did she run, until the moon was near-set, and the sky was growing light. She paused, wiped the tears from her eyes and heard the unmistakable sound of elvish music, and the quiet swish of elven clothing as they danced. _

_Aldaya stepped forward, and saw a group of Noldor elves dancing under the fading stars, laughing and swinging each other through the dance. _

_Silent tears slid down her cheeks as she remembered her precious Papa, and the horrible man who had killed him. She burst into tears. The elves, startled, immediately disappeared; but seeing the small, crying elven child they quickly came back out and encircled her, trying to find out what was the matter._

_"He killed my papa!" she said shrilly. "I hate him! He killed my papa!"_

Aldaya jerked upright in bed, her body drenched with sweat. Throwing off the covers she ran to the window and opened it, letting the cool sea breeze dry her off, all the while trying to dim the memories that shone so clear in her mind. 

She rushed around her room, throwing on her clothes. Listening at the door she could hear Elrond and Elrohir talking. Aldaya silently shook her head. She didn't want to talk to anyone right now. Quickly she opened her window and slipped out, running around the house and to the stables.

Elrohir's horse, Aldebaran was there, and she quickly sprang onto his back. "Take me where I can be alone," she told the horse in elvish, and he responded, breaking into a soundless and ground-covering gallop.

Aldebaran took her along a little-used path with the cliff and sea to her left, and the silent, brooding forest to her right. The seagulls screamed, and the surf pounded the rocks below. 

Aldaya rode long that day, nearly half-way around the isle, choosing not to go to the beach below, but staying up on the cliff. Sea-spray stung her eyes, but she did not notice. Her mind was wrapped around the sights and sounds from nearly ten thousand years ago. 

Almost without thinking, she dismounted and walked to the edge of the cliff, feeling the wind tug at her clothes. Shielding her eyes from the spray with one hand she looked out over the crashing sea. In the distance, she could see several sailing ships riding the waves.

If she had been thinking, if she had noticed her surroundings, she would have noticed Aldebaran's nervous whinny, would have noticed how unstable the rock she stood on was. Would have noticed the ground giving way before it was too late.

Aldebaran screamed and backpedaled hard, managing to get off the sliding ground before he was caught in the slide. Aldaya was not so lucky.

Down she fell, rolling and tumbling, striking boulders and boulders striking her. At long last she came to rest on the beach, nearly a hundred foot drop. She stared up at the sky spinning above her and remembered. 

_She was a beautiful elf-woman, strong and tall, stern and kind, wise beyond her one thousand years. She stood with her lover, smiling, waiting for him to ask her to marry him. They stood in an ancient grove of redwoods, the starlight filtering down through the thick canopy. _

_Aldaya saw his eyes widen in horror, saw him step back, saw the arrow burst from his throat. She stared at him, numb, as he fell. In his face she saw her father. _

_A second arrow took her through the heart as she spun around and tried to flee. It went deeper and deeper into her flesh, and she thought she could feel no more pain, scream no more until she saw the hideous creature step into the clearing. It was a mockery of the elves, she knew, but the site was no more terrifying to a young elf who had never before seen an orc. _

_She was still alive as it raised its horribly curved blade above its head, and decapitated her. _

Aldaya lay out under the darkening sky, trembling, and remembered. 


	7. Chapter Seven: Lord Finarfin

Chapter Seven

Lord Finarfin

Aldaya stared up at the dark ceiling, knowing she was not in Elrond's house, or her own, or lying on the beach—so where was she?

She sensed movement behind her and tilted her head back to see a very regal looking elf move towards her from the back of the room. She was struck by his looks—beautiful golden hair down to his shoulders, elaborate velvet robes in dark, muted colors. The elf looked extremely elegant, and his eyes seemed ancient and wise and kind. Indeed, they reminded her much of Elrond's eyes—except more knowing, and very keen. 

"Do I know you?" she asked; for indeed, the elf seemed startlingly familiar. 

"You know many of my descendants," the elf replied gently, sitting down on a chair next to her. "But we have not met before now."

Something in his voice—his motion—the very way he tilted his head as he regarded her with those darkened eyes reminded her of someone. Who could it be…?

Her heart constricted painfully and her mouth went dry. The only elf she could think of who acted in the same regal, quiet, extremely elven way was Galadriel. Which meant this had to be—?

"Lord Finarfin?" she asked softly, and a smile broke out on the grave elf's face.   
  


"I thought perhaps you'd recognize me," he said. "Everyone says Galadriel and I have a striking resembolence. Welcome to my house, Lady Aldaya."

_Dear gods, I'm talking to a legend. Oh, hell, I've talked to twenty of them as of late, I should be used to this by now…but STILL. It's FINARFIN, younger brother of Fingolfin and half-brother to Feanor for heaven's sake, father of Galadriel and Finrod and—and High King of the Noldor in Aman and oh Elbereth, what have I gotten myself into now?_

Aldaya pushed herself upright slowly. "How did I get here?" she asked, and winced as sunlight hit her eyes. That was odd—it had never bothered her since she'd become an elf. "And how do you know who I am?" 

"I'm always careful to note who my decendants are marrying these days," Finarfin replied lightly. "As to how you got here—apparently you took quite a fall off of that cliff. Master Elrond says its only a minor concussion—but you could have easily broken your neck from the fall. You're very lucky to be alive."

"How long have I been out?"

"Nearly a week."

Aldaya's jaw dropped. "Does my husband know I'm here?" she asked quickly, thinking of how terrified Elrohir would be. 

"Your family arrived only a few hours after the accident. Your son is with Lady Celebrian, and your husband and Master Elrond are asleep. They've been up almost all week, day and night, caring for you."

Aldaya buried her head in her hands, her mind swirling. It was all coming back to her now—the fall, remembering her death, her father—her dear father—

"Cat eating your thoughts?" Finarfin asked, interrupting her doleful thinking.

"What?" she asked, startled, rasing her head.

Finarfin smiled one of those charming smiles. "Its an old saying," he said. "It means, something on your mind?"

"A lot of somethings," she admitted. Finarfin seemed very easy to talk to, for a regal and ancient King of the Noldor. "Milord…have you ever died?"

Finarfin cocked his head in thought. "No, actually, I haven't."

"How much do you know about me?"

"Not much," the King admitted. "There are rumors, of course, but they seem too malicious for such a kind young woman."

Aldaya blushed like a girl complimented on her beauty. Then she told her story, from her meeting with Elrohir, to her discovery that another Aldaya had lived years before as an elf—and that elf's soul had been born into her and Elrohir. She went on to speak of her father, Silruin, of loosing him, of Tindome and Elrohir, of the strain of not being able to act "elven." Of the shunning she had received on many levels, some obvious, some not so. And of how stifled she felt—strangled, really. Trapped in a perfect world full of perfect people, and she was the only one not so perfect. She was a falier to her husband, and a disgrace. She would never be excepted. She'd always be the ugly duckling. 

And Finarfin listened as only a partial stranger can listen as Aldaya poured out her feelings of abandonment, sadness and anger. "Why did Beren have to kill my father?" she asked bitterly, more to herself than to Finarfin. "None of this would have happened."

"And you never would have met Elrohir," Finarfin said softly, suddenly. "Or been able to raise Tindome." She looked up at him with eyes red from crying. "The ugly duckling turns into a swan in the end, remember?" he said kindly. "If we were all the same, we would not be a people, no?"

The "we" made Aldaya look more closely at him. "Am I truly an elf?" she asked, voicing at last the question that had haunted her deepest and darknest thoughts. 

"I suppose one of the most asked questions humans must ponder is, what is so different about the elves?" Finarfin began slowly, thoughtfully. "What is it that makes us so different? Our looks? Our philosophy? Our way of life? Or is it our lengthened lives?" Finarfin leaned forward and gently took her clammy hand in his. "It's a question only you can answer. But the Valar do not err in such matters. If you have an elven soul, then no matter if you act like a human, or even a dwarf, you are an elf, in body and soul, no matter what anyone else says. And to those with the wisdom to see it, that is all that matters."

Aldaya looked at him, saw no lie in his eyes or face. "Thanks," she whispered. "I think I needed to hear that."

Finarfin just smiled.

"Mommy!" Aldaya turned at the joyful cry as Tindome threw himself into her arms. 

"Oh, my sweet Tindome," she said, holding him close. "How I missed you."

"Mommy, are you going to be all right?"

"I'm fine, my little one." Aldaya looked over to where Finarfin had sat just a moment before, but he was not there. She frowned, puzzled, as Celebrian entered. Aldaya continued to stroke Tindome, but shot a bemused glance at Celebrian, who just smiled.

"He is Finarfin," she said, as though that explained everything. "High King of the Noldor in Aman. He comes and goes as he pleases."

Two days later Aldaya rode back to her home with Elrohir, little Tindome riding in front of her and giggling as the horse's mane tickled his nose. Looking back over her shoulder, she saw a tall, elegant figure dressed in dark blue raise a hand in farewell. She smiled to herself and urged her horse on. 


	8. Chapter Eight: A Storm Rising

Chapter Eight

A Storm Brewing

"Kick butt," Ellórmë told Aldaya nearly a week later. "Kick butt, and kill butt if you have too."

Aldaya paused in mid-block, barely managing to flinch away from a blow that certainly would have left a bruise. "What in the world are you talking about?"

"Haven't you heard? Elrond and his family are invited to a dinner party tomorrow night at King Finarfin's house. Apparently all the Noldoran nobles are invited."

Aldaya groaned loudly. "I'm doomed."

Ellórmë stopped suddenly and put her hands on her hips. "Aldaya, I'm honestly disappointed in you. I thought you had more backbone than that."

Aldaya bristled. "What do you mean by that?"

"It wasn't easy for me, going back to being an elf, but I managed it. You will, too. Do not let these elf-nobles push you around. Push back, and kick some elfen-bootie if you have to."

"It's 'elven', not elfen," Aldaya said primly, and ducked under a playful blow, grinning. "All right, I won't let them push me around."

"And I'll be there to make sure you don't let them. They are just elves. What can they do?"

"That's rich, coming from you," she retorted, ducking under a swing and breathing their swords together with a crash and a spraying of sparks. "You survive a battle in which the odds are twenty to one, against you, you break into Dol Guldur while it's still inhabited by Sauron to break your father out, AND survive, and you are practically the typical hero! I'm a merchant, for Elbereth's sake, the most dangerous thing I've done in my life is take an arrow through the back—by mistake!"

Ellórmë disarmed her and Aldaya ended up on her rump, craning her neck to look back at Ellórmë. "Aldaya, feel sorry for yourself for exactly ten seconds. Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one…now stop. You have lived a life far more exciting than me. You DIED for heavens sake and came back to life! I've heard minstrels making songs about you! My father, even!"

Aldaya pause. "You really think I should stand up to them?"

"Hell yes! You think Finarfin let's people mouth off at him? I saw him disarm and disgrace a young upstart just the other day when he was making rude remarks about you."

Aldaya's jaw almost hit her knees. "He stood up for _me?" she squeaked. "The High King of the Noldor stood up for __me? ME?!"_

"He likes you," Ellorme explained, helping her up. "You have a certain frank shyness that many of the elves grow out of at an early age. And Finarfin likes helping people. He's always been that way. Probably always will."

Aldaya nodded slowly, and sheathed her sword. "You're right, and so is he. I'm not taking any more—bull plop—from them."

Ellorme laughed. "We may have to work on your vocabulary, darling. You need something harsher."

Aldaya grinned. "If it gets any harsher, they'll throw me out." 

*     *     *     *

"I was a smith, actually," the elf said with certain arrogance to his tone, his dark eyes and brow sharp against his pale skin. The elf then went into long detail of the people he had served and the kings he had sold his fortunes to. Aldaya was hard put not to yawn. 

"And you, Lady Aldaya?" the elf's wife said, just as primly. "What did you do for income?"

Her tone expected something nasty. Aldaya resisted the urge to push her prissy little face down into the pie she was delicately eating. Ellórmë was right, she thought. I'm going to shock them. Once and for all. Besides, elves HATE merchants…all of them except Elrond, of course. They think we're weasel-like little animals that live only for money. They're usually right.

"I was a stripper," Aldaya said calmly. 

Elrohir choked on his wine. So did the elven-couple, for that matter. Aldaya smiled blandly, one hand propping up her head.

"And, dear…" said the wife slowly as her husband disappeared to 'freshen up'. "Were you a virgin, then, when you married?" Now it was Elrond's turn to choke. Elves simply do not ask things like that. 

"Not even close," Aldaya said sweetly, battering her eyelashes. It was quite true. She'd slept with Elrohir before she'd married him—but she'd been a virgin then. She didn't bother point this out. A stain now colored Elrohir's cheeks the color of the red wine he was drinking.

The woman gulped and eased away.

Aldaya glanced over and saw a stony expression on Elrohir's face. Elrond and Celebrían's expressions were bland as ever—but she thought she could see approval sparkling in their eyes. As for King Finarfin, well, he had apparently overheard, because he was trying very hard not to spit out the wine he was drinking, and look like nothing was funny. 

When the dancing began, Elrohir pulled her aside. "Why did you do that?" he demanded. "It will be all over the island before morning! And your reputation is ruined!"

"Elrohir," she said calmly, "I don't give a shit for my reputation, and neither do they. They would have found a way to ruin my reputation anyway. Besides, it was true."

Elrohir froze. "What?"

"I was a stripper. It was when I was sixteen, on a dare. My best friend said she'd do it with me, so we got up on a table in a tavern and…stripped."

Elrohir looked like he'd taken a blow to the head. He blinked dazedly. "You never told me this!"

"You never asked," she pointed out with a grin. "Besides, what's the harm in a little fun?"

"What's the harm? Have you never thought how this might reflect on our family—what if King Finarfin overheard? What do you think he would have thought?"

"That it was sweet revenge?" she offered. Elrohir scowled. "Elrohir, why are you so mad?"

"Because I had hopes the elves would finally except you, in time! And now there is no chance they ever will!"

"How can you know that?" she snapped, getting angry in turn. "What, was I just supposed to wait a few centuries until they got over my mortal-ness, or I got over my personality?"

"Yes, actually, that was the plan."

Aldaya went very still. "If you don't love me for who I am," she began coldly.

"I love you, but they never will! Not now!"

"You think I care? Anyone single-minded enough to listen to gossip isn't my friend anyway, and I wouldn't want to be there's. The harsh reality is, they may never except me, Elrohir. I'm too different, too alien. Maybe, in time, if I did something stupid and heroic they would, but even then its up in the air."

"Just be careful what you say from now on."

Aldaya's face hardened. "Don't tell me what to say, Elrohir."

"It's for your own good!"

"Don't patronize me, either!"

Her voice rose sharply, and everyone went suddenly very quiet in the room. Someone tittered, and Elrohir colored. Quieter, Aldaya said, "You need to think less about what other people think about us and more about how you feel about yourself, about us. That's all that really matters." 

Then she stalked from the place, holding her head up and walking like a human without the easy gliding pace elves choose.

Because I'm not afraid, she thought bitterly as she ignored the glances and whispers. Because I won't be someone I'm not—not in this life or the next, and not here and not in Middle-Earth. They can bloody well get used to that. 

Aldaya walked down towards the shoreline, wrapping her arms around her against the chill breeze. 

"Lady Aldaya?"

Aldaya turned to find herself face to face with a very handsome young elf, perhaps a little younger than Elrohir, his locks curly, for an elf's, and his eyes very bright. She studied him, and nodded. He seemed faintly familiar…

"Excuse me for interrupting you. My name is Legolas."

A smile broke out on Aldaya's face. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lord Legolas."

"Please…just Legolas."

"Then I am just Aldaya."

A smile, surprisingly shy for such a renowned elf, broke out across his face. "I'm sorry, but you looked so upset I wanted to make sure you were all right…"

"I'm fine, thank you. Just a little put off by the niceties."

"That's why I left my father's court," Legolas agreed. "Leave politics to politicians and battle to warriors, as we say."

Aldaya smiled. "It's a good saying." 

She watched the stars for sometime, not even realizing that Legolas was still beside her, so when he spoke she jumped a bit.

"Was it true?"

"Was what true?"

"About your profession?"

Aldaya smiled. "Half-truth. I did it once with a friend, on a dare, when I was a teenager. I was a merchant, actually."

Legolas raised an eyebrow. "You have amazing insight, Aldaya. Had you told them that, they never would have let you live it down."

She looked at him curiously. "You don't seem to mind."

Legolas shrugged slightly, managing to look very elven at the same time. "I became very good friends with a dwarf and a human," he said quietly. "Some things you learn to except—like that not all people are the same, no matter what profession they're in."

"Not all mortals are impossible, you mean?" she asked dryly. 

"Something like that." He smiled. "Are you cold? Would you like to go back inside?" 

"I'm fine, thanks, but you can go if you want."

"Aldaya!"

Aldaya turned to find Earal running up to her at breakneck speed. Something in his voice, in the near-frantic expression on his face, made her heart pound and flung adrenaline into her system. "What is it? What's happened?"

"It's Tindome."

"Tindome?" she cried.

"He's missing."


	9. Chapter Nine: The Fight for a Life

Chapter Nine

The Fight for a Life

Aldaya stormed into the dancing chamber like a thunderstorm. Elves gave way before her; there was a violent look her in eyes that boded ill for anyone who got too close. The musicians faltered, and then stopped. Complete and absolute silence fell, and no one dared to even murmur. Everyone felt the tension. 

She came to a stop a few feet away from a group of half a dozen sniggering elven males, all only a few thousand years old. Her eyes were cold as she took an ominous step forward.

"Where is my son?" Aldaya asked. The elves in the hall shifted anxiously, glancing at one another. 

"Your son?" one elf asked innocently. "Should we know about him?"

"Can humans breed, I wonder? If so, he is only a half-breed. Why should we care?"

"Of course they can breed. Look at their population problem!" The elves laughed cruelly, and Aldaya felt the sudden pain of rejection sharp in her chest. She pushed it out of her thoughts. Aldaya could hear someone running towards the lobby—most likely for Lord Elrond and King Finarfin. She didn't blame them.

"I give you one more chance to tell me where my son is."

"Or what? You'll sneeze on us? Give us the plague?" The elven males found this hysterically funny until Aldaya slammed her fist into the man's jaw. He reeled backwards, blood rolling off his chin as he screamed. 

"What's going on here?" a voice demanded sharply. Aldaya ignored it.

"I ask you again," she said coldly. "Where is my son?"

"We'll never tell you, bitch," one elf answered. Then Finarfin was beside her, and she doubted it wise to punch the man out in front of the High King.

"Aldaya?" Aldaya registered Elrohir's voice but didn't turn.

"What's going on?" another voice asked, and Elrond pushed his way through the crowd.

"These elves kidnapped my son, and I want him back," Aldaya said stiffly without turning her head. "And in about five seconds I'm going to physically rip every limb from limb unless they tell me where he is."

There was the ominous sliding of cold steel against scabbard as elves on both sides drew swords. 

"Put those swords away!" Finarfin said sternly. "There will be no fighting in my halls! Now, I say!"

Reluctantly the elves sheathed their swords; but Aldaya had drawn no weapon, and her stance alone showed she needed none to do exactly as she had described.

"You can't be sure it was them, Aldaya," Finarfin said quietly.

"Yes, I can," Aldaya answered, and no one doubted her. 

She stepped closer to the leader of the gang of elves, putting her face level with his. "What do you want?" she asked softly.

"You have till dawn's light hits the forest on the east side of the Isle," he answered. "If you haven't set sail for Middle-Earth by then, I'll slit your precious elflet's throat."

There was an angry murmur among the elves. Mortal or no, the slaughter of any children was barbaric and unacceptable among the Elves, punishable by death. 

"Where is he?" Aldaya asked again.

"Someplace you won't find in time," the leader answered.

"You won't get away with this," said another voice, the voice of Legolas Greenleaf. "When the Valar discover what you have done, you will have to atone for your crimes."

"By then, we'll have what we want," the elf answered. "Oh, and I have you watched, Aldaya. Try and rescue him, and we'll ship your little elfling back to you—in pieces." He laughed nastily. "Come along, boys. We have other business to take care of."

Aldaya resisted the urge to strangle the elves as they went by, and she was trembling so badly she almost couldn't stand. Elrond gently guided her to a chair as Elladan physically restrained Elrohir from attacking the rogue elves. 

"Someone must contact the Valar, now," Finarfin said into the silence. His eyes scanned the crowd. "Glorfindel, take whomever you trust. Go."

The golden-haired Elf-Lord touched Ëarel's sleeve and the two of them disappeared into the night. 

"There's no time," Aldaya said stiffly. "Dawn is only an hour away. They'll never make it in time."

"There's nothing more we can do," Finarfin said gently.

"Oh," she said grimly, pulling a hair-pin out of her hair that, with a deft snap, turned into a throwing star, "there you're dead wrong."

*     *     *     *

"Be reasonable," Elrond begged, "you can't take an army of elves on by yourself!"

"I won't be by myself. Ellórmë is coming with me."

"I'm coming, as well," said another voice.

Aldaya looked up, startled, into her husband's eyes. "Sure," she said at last. "We could use all the help we can get."

She was dressed in clothes specially made for tracking—right now she was black as death because of the moonset and the dim stars. She was veiled as well, hiding all but her eyes. Even her hair was concealed. Ellórmë was dressed the same, and both were armed to the teeth with throwing knives and stars, hidden daggers, swords, and small bows. They looked like a two-woman army.

Elrohir wore camouflaged leggings and shirt, and his cloak was dark green. He blended as well with the night as any shadow, and both women knew it. 

"Let's go," Aldaya said abruptly. 

"But where will you start?"

Aldaya closed her eyes in response. _Tindómë? she mind-called. __Tindómë? _

Tindómë was too young to respond mind-to-mind, but Aldaya felt the shifting of his thoughts as he opened up to her. She opened her eyes and found that Tindómë was blindfolded. Tindómë's excellent sense of direction was all she need, however. 

"Western side of the island," Aldaya said shortly. "Don't forget to give my message to Ëarel, Lord Elrond. Come on. Let's move." 

*     *     *     *

Tindómë, for all that he was still a very young child, was highly intelligent. And despite the fact that he was bound, gagged, and blindfolded, his kidnappers weren't cruel to him, and after setting him down somewhere far into the forest on the western part of the island, they'd left him alone. His sharp ears told him that there were only two guards watching him. And the guards, a bit sympathetic, had loosened his bonds when he cried. However, they'd loosened them a bit too much, and Tindómë was currently cutting the rope on a sharp rock behind him. Had he known how close to death he was as he felt the warmth of the sun on his face he would have hurried. As it was, he was more concerned about loosening his bonds.

Suddenly, someone grabbed him, hauled him roughly to the middle of the clearing, ripped off his blindfold, and then slammed him against a stone table, tying his arms and legs down with leather straps. Only when Tindómë saw the very sharp knife in one of the elves' hands did he realize their intent, and begin to scream hysterically. 

One of the elves, the one with the knife, shook his head and stepped back. "I can't kill a child," he said firmly. "Not for any cause."

Snarling, the other guard grabbed the knife out of his hands. "Coward!" The elf turned and brought the knife very close to Tindómë's face. "This one shall make a nice scalp for my collection."

Tindómë screamed louder, more desperately, as the knife began cutting into his skin, drawing blood. 

Just as all hell broke loose. 


	10. Chapter Ten: Undying Regret

DISCLAIMER: Did I miss a few of these? Oppsie. NONE of this is mine except Ëarel, Aldaya, Tindómë, Ellórmë, and the very mean five hundred year old thugs. And yes, this is based on Arwen's ride to the ford, from the movie. Also, I'm taking the explanation that Elves sleep with their eyes open to mean if they close their eyes it's a bad sign. Best if read slowly while listening to soundtrack (starting with the Flight to the Ford) and ending with the breaking of the fellowship. 

Chapter Ten

Undying Regret

Aldaya went crazy.

Seeing her precious child about to be murdered on a sacrificial alter was too much for her and Elrohir. All plans flew out of there heads, and Ellórmë was left briefly gaping as they flung themselves at the elves with a viciousness that startled even her. She sighed and then took out the elf holding the knife with a throwing star through the throat, and followed the Aldaya to where she was cutting Tindómë free and cuddling her child close, babbling nonsense. 

Ellórmë let her do this for about ten seconds, and then she cuffed Aldaya gently across the shoulder. Aldaya swung around and scowled at her.

"No offense," she stated calmly to the irate mother. "But we should be moving on, unless you like ambushes."

Understanding settled on Aldaya's face, and she handed Tindómë briefly to Elrohir, who held the child close, crying silently. She put her fingers to her lips and whistled sharply.

Ellórmë winced. "That wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

A second later, though, in fact just as she finished the sentence, a horse pounded into the clearing, fully saddled and ready to ride.

"Oh no…"

Aldaya looked to Ellórmë, who was stooping over the knife fallen from the dead guard's hand. "Tell me he wasn't cut."

"You poor baby!" Aldaya whispered, nearly hysterical as she and Elrohir crowded protectively around the child. "Did they hurt you?"

Ellórmë saw the blood on Tindómë's neck and went alabaster white. "Aldaya, you need to get him to Valinor _now. That knife has a fast-acting poison on it. He'll be dead before the hour is out if you don't get the antidote."_

Aldaya wasted no time in flinging herself onto the horse's back, pulling Tindómë in front of her and whipping the horse around. They set off at a dead gallop. 

Elrohir looked torn. Ellórmë put her hand on the father's shoulder. "Let's go kick some elf-butt," she suggested. Elrohir nodded grimly and drew his sword. It was time for justice to be served. 

*     *     *     *

Aldaya leaned protectively over her child. Tindómë had begun to shiver, and she grimly urged the horse on. Wind whipped back her hair, stinging her face and eyes. She ignored this and squinted. Would Elrond have gotten her message to Ëarel in time? She could not exactly ride over water to Valinor. She needed a boat. 

Aldebaran pounded forward, sensing his mistress' haste. Instinctively, Aldaya glanced over her shoulder even as Aldebaran shied to one side and an arrow flicked by. Three elves on horseback followed her, with longbows. 

"Noro lim!" she cried, bending lower over the horse. "Noro lim, noro lim, Aldebaran!"

Aldebaran stretched out his long legs, put his head down and pounded. Aldaya looked straight between his ears, unable to look at the ground falling by at a dizzying speed. Behind her she could hear the shouts and whoops of the elves. 

She risked another glance back. They were falling back—their horses, probably sensing their intent, began fighting them. "Faster," she whispered. 

Tindómë whimpered softly. Aldaya kissed his cheek and held on tightly. She glanced sideways as something burst out of the trees. It was a bowman, shooting at point-blank range. 

Aldaya's hand snapped up and to the side with a speed she had not known she had. She hit the arrow's shaft and knocked it off its course. She only had enough time to see his shocked face as she thundered by, and then the archer's horse reared up. 

Two more riders burst from the foliage and followed her close, swords in hand. Aldaya looked up and saw Ëarel's ship heading for the wharf. _This is going to be close…_

The elves were almost within reaching distance now. Everything seemed to be in slow motion. The pounding of Aldebaran's hooves, the snort of breath, the adrenaline and fear in her veins.

She swerved to one side, avoiding a sword sweep. Then she was on the wharf—the boat was coming up fast—Aldebaran leaped—

—and landed, stumbling, on the boat's deck as the elven-riders skidded to a stop on the edge of the wharf. 

Ëarel caught her as she swayed with relief, almost falling off the horses' back, easing her to lean against a sack of grain and putting a heavily panting Tindómë in her arms. "We're only a few minutes from Valinor," he said soothingly. "Just relax, we're almost there."

Aldaya cuddled Tindómë and did not answer. 

Ëarel shouted orders, and Aldaya felt the wind pick up, driving the little boat towards the shore of Valinor, now coming into sight. By some blessing of the Valar, a gale had come up and was now pushing the boat towards the docks on Valinor's shores. 

Aldaya held a now-motionless Tindómë in her arms as she ran off the boat, Ëarel close behind. 

An elf, very tall and still, her eyes dark as night, nodded to them and motioned for them to put the elf-child down. "We have received word of what has transpired," she said coolly, placing her hands on the elf-boy's brow and neck. "I will do what I can." She reached into the satchel she carried and pulled out a bottle. Unstopping it, she tilted Tindómë's head back and poured a small amount into his mouth. She then closed his lips and massaged his throat, tilting his head back further. He swallowed reflexively. The healer then turned his head to the side as she examined the wound on his neck. Taking out a second bottle, she let the contents drizzle over the wound. The potion hissed and fizzled softly. She then sat back and lifted the child to a sitting position, and gave Tindómë back to Aldaya, who was now weeping quietly. 

"He will live," the healer said softly as Aldaya pulled Tindómë against her. Tindómë sighed, and squirmed. Then he opened his eyes. 

Aldaya pulled Tindómë closer and began to babble nonsense. The child shifted in her arms until comfortable, and then leaned against her to rest. "My baby," she whispered, rocking the boy. "My poor baby." 

"I'm okay, mommy," Tindómë murmured sleepily, his eyes slowly glazing over as he fell asleep. 

"Aldaya? Aldaya!" Aldaya looked up as Elrohir raced over, falling to his knees beside her and gently easing Tindómë into his arms. "Will he—?"

"He'll be fine," Aldaya answered in a shaky voice, wiping tears from her eyes with a handkerchief that Ëarel handed her. 

"Which is more than I can say for you."

Aldaya and Elrohir sprang to their feet. Tindome jerked out of reverie and hid behind them. 

Earal was held captured by two elves. Arrows pointed at Aldaya and Elrohir, and the healer was also held. 

"Do as you wish with me," Aldaya said softly. "But please—leave my child and husband alone."

"We might do that," one of the elves agreed. "And then again, we might not."

Tears sprung into Aldaya's eyes. All this had happened because of her…

"Go on, m'lord," a second elf ordered. "You, the sea-elf, the healer and the child are free to go. We just want the girl." 

Without moving, Elrohir said: "Healer, take our child if you please, and get him out of here." 

Tindome began to cry as the healer lifted the child. She and Earal began slowly walking away, deeper into Valinor. Aldaya had no time to marvel at the land's beauty—she was too busy glaring at Elrohir. "Go with them!" she urged. "They only want me, just go! Don't make him loose both parents."

"If I lost you I'd die from grief," he answered softly. "We're soul-bonded, remember?"

"Enough talking!" the first elf snapped. "Stand back, or we'll kill you, too!"

The second elf stared in disbelief at the first. "You'd kill the son of Lord Elrond?"

"To ride the islands of human muck? Yes I would."

"That wasn't in the agreement!" another elf protested. "You said no one would die."

"I changed my mind!" the first elf cried, grabbing his bow and pulling taunt the string.

"No!" 

Elrohir stepped between the arrow and Aldaya as it flew towards her, taking it point-blank through the chest. His face paled and he gasped, touching the shaft with one had as he slowly collapsed. Aldaya screamed shrilly, and screamed again and again as she caught him. The healer and Ëarel broke into a wild run, shouting for help. 

Elrohir lay gasping in her arms. His eyes caught and held hers; there was no pity in them, but a burning joy that shook her. "No," she whispered, pulling him tighter. "Elrohir, no!"

Even as she spoke she felt a brief tug, and then a flowing sensation as her link with him was lost. He opened his mouth to speak, but there was too much blood for him to catch his breath. He struggled briefly and horribly to breathe, for a moment, and then his eyes slipped closed and he lay still. 

"No," she whimpered. "No, no, no, no, no!" 

The pounding of feet on wood did not even raise her head. She did not see the elves turn on their leader and kill him for killing their Elrond's son. She did not see Elrond himself, following Finarfin and several other elf-lords and ladies come up. She felt hands tugging gently on her to let Elrohir go. She shook her head wordlessly, staring at her husband's face. The flow of blood had stopped now, and Elrohir looked like he was sleeping, but his eyes were closed. 

"Wake up," she moaned. "Elrohir, wake up! Wake up, wake up," she whispered. She pressed her cheek to his shoulder, and felt the dampness of blood on his collar. She shuddered as she drew in breath, and it came out a violent sob. No one spoke. 

"Child…"

Now she did look up. Her tear and blood stained face twisted in anguish. Olórin knelt by her, his face a mask of sympathy. "Let him go," the former Wizard said gently, "go to your child." 

Aldaya slowly stood up and backed away as Olórin stepped closer. he looked around slowly at the large group of elves standing before him. "Not since the Third Kinslaying has any elf murdered another," he said at last. "And the hopes of the Valar were than it would never happen again. Through your own foolishness and near-sightedness, this has come upon you. There was enough blood spilt today to last until the end of Time." He looked down at Elrohir and the other dead elf. "And enough sorrow to last all the races of the world a billion years. You have torn a father from his child, and that damage can never be undone. You have brought your own sorrow and pain upon yourselves. I dearly hope that for all the loss today, you have learned something from this. Now take your slain and go—there will be no more blood, mortal or immortal, ever to be slain upon this fair place again.

"Go."

And the elves went, taking their dead and mourning their folly and short-sightedness. But Aldaya walked alone, in front of the others, holding her child close. And she now understood how regret could be undying. 

*?*?*?*?*?*?*?*?

Yes, there WILL be a sequel, so patience please. Gloomy, I know. And yes, Elrohir is quite dead. Not even dead, but deadead. Sorry about that but it did set the mood.  


End file.
